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She shot me a grim smile. “Let’s just say I’ve got a really big extended pack. Some of them are probably between jobs. And none of them like bullies.”
Nat sat back in his chair and gave a satisfied nod. “If you can get us some new workers that are guaranteed not to be SSG plants, we owe you a raise. If everyone employed in the restaurant is vetted, that would at least eliminate the kind of internal sabotage we were dealing with before.”
Shani gave a wry snort. “If it means no more overhead storage racks randomly falling on my head, then I’m doubly motivated to find you some people.”
“Overhead racks... or greased stairwells. Or roach attacks,” I added. “Seriously, if you can fill those positions, that would beamazing.”
“I’m on it,” she said. “In fact, if we’re about done here for the day, I’ll go home and start calling some folks.”
“Yes, it’s getting late,” Nat said. “Thank you, Shaniqua—for everything.”
She scoffed, although she couldn’t quite hide her pleased expression. “Nonsense. I only managed to land this sweet Michelin-star gig a few weeks ago. You think I won’t fight to keep it?”
“You’ve earned it several times over,” I told her. “And one way or another, we’re going to kick some Bella Vita ass.”
“Preach, sister,” Shani agreed.
I waited until she’d headed out before turning my attention back to Nat. “Can we actually afford to give her a raise?”
“That’s going to depend rather heavily on how well the relaunch goes,” he replied, letting out a sigh.
“Do I want to know how the media interviews went?” I asked, bracing for disappointment.
Nat’s lips thinned. “Town and Homepassed on the story. Too gossipy for their exalted local rag, apparently. TheMetro Lifestylereporter is going to float it to her editor, but it sounds like if they take it, it’ll end up being a couple of inches somewhere in the middle of the magazine rather than a front-page headline.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
“For what it’s worth, theTown and Homeguy offered to send the story to a contact of his who works for one of the big national tabloids,” Nat went on.
“Oh, god. Not the ‘Aliens Ate My Sasquatch Baby’one, I hope,” I said, wincing.
“No, not quitethattabloid-y,” he replied. “Honestly, I don’t hold out much hope—but if they did decide to pick it up, it would end up in front of a much larger audience.”
“I guess so,” I said, hearing the skeptical tone creeping into my voice. “Still, maybe we should start the social media campaign without having a news article come out first. We need to dosomething.”
“Maybe,” he said. “I think we should hold off until after the interview with the U.S. Attorney’s office, though. It might look unprofessional otherwise.”
I sighed, deflating. “Yes, probably. Okay, like you said, it’s getting late. I should probably head out. Can you lock up?”
“Sure.” He wasn’t looking at me as I rose, having suddenly found something terribly interesting about the table’s polished surface. “Um, there’s something else...”
I paused, one hand resting on the back of the chair. “What is it?”
He glanced up. “Oh, nothing really. It’s not important. I just ran into one of your alphas at the gym yesterday.”
“Really?” I asked, startled. “Which one?”
“Emiel,” Nat said. “Apparently, we’re both members there. We just didn’t go at the same times of day. He, um, invited me to grab a coffee afterward.”
I stared at him. “He... what? Hang on, are yousureit was Emiel?”
He gave me a look. “Unless he has an identical twin who gets his jollies from impersonating him, then yes, I’m sure it was Emiel.” He hesitated, looking away again. “He’s worried about you. About us fighting back against this gang, I mean.”
I opened my mouth. Paused. Closed it.
Tried again. “And he invited you for coffee to tell you this?”
Nat shrugged helplessly. “I got the impression he thought I have some influence with you? I told him that wasn’t really the case. It’s your choice whether to pursue this fight with the Bella Vita people, not mine.”